


Next Stop, Everywhere

by NewWonder



Series: Portgas D. Wangst [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Portgas D. Ace Lives, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Swearing, rated for Ace's dirty mouth and some very mild canon-typical gore, the D. bros are going to sail historic on the Grand Line waters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28221276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewWonder/pseuds/NewWonder
Summary: That damn magma fist should have gotten Ace. By a sheer miracle, it didn’t. And the rest is history.No, scratch that. It's not history yet.But it will be.
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy/Portgas D. Ace
Series: Portgas D. Wangst [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067378
Comments: 9
Kudos: 78
Collections: Mine favoritter.





	Next Stop, Everywhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [micifuskuroneko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/micifuskuroneko/gifts), [moonryak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonryak/gifts).



> This fic deals with heavy PTSD and eventual recovery. I tried to do it justice to the best of my ability, but if any things feel off, please do tell me.
> 
> Also, this is a sequel to [Sailing Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27694814), but it can also be read as a standalone. Fair warning: this fic is about 93% gen, but the prequel is pure unrepentant slash.

That damn magma fist should have gotten Ace.  
It came out of fucking nowhere. Ace barely had the time to notice it, and stand in front of it.  
And then he was being blasted away.  
Later, he realized that it was Okama-weirdo’s Wink that had sent them flying, him and Luffy both. But at that moment, Ace only felt a great wind that struck like a punch, and hurled them away.  
The ground hit them hard, knocking the wind out of Ace for a moment. He dizzily got up, and looked around for Luffy.  
There he was, lying on the ground, arms spread and feet bare. A broken sword was sticking through his chest, dead center.  
Ace couldn’t breathe.  
He surged forward and gently lifted Luffy from the damn blade that just had to be stuck in the ground right where Luffy fell. As Ace held him close to his chest, trying to catch the sound of his breathing, he barely noticed how he kept saying the same word, over and over and over again:  
“Luffy! Luffy? Luffy, Luffy, Luffy…”

Later, Jinbe told him that he had been sitting on the medical bay floor with his head bowed, clutching Luffy’s hand, for three days.  
Those days had felt endless, like drowning in a bog with no bottom, but they also somehow seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. One moment, Ace was falling to his knees at Luffy’s bedside; the next moment, Luffy’s fingers were clutching his, and there was a voice, a raspy, broken voice Ace had all but lost his hope to hear again.  
The voice said:  
“Food!..”  
And just like that, the long hell was over.  
Ace watched Luffy inhale food while completely disregarding the fawning Pirate Empress ( _what_ ), and suddenly discovered that he, too, was ravenous. He also noticed, with great surprise, a drip attached to his arm.  
“You’ve been fucked up pretty bad, Portgas-ya,” said the tattooed guy who apparently came all the way to Marineford just to get Luffy out. His little brother was so unexpectedly popular, Ace felt positively befuddled. “Akainu got you good on your way to the shore. Your problem was mostly the stress and the seastone exhaustion, though, so I was never worried about you.”  
He was worried about _Luffy,_ he meant. Suddenly Ace was not hungry anymore.  
Only just now was he starting to realize that he _survived._ That he lived past his execution date, and would likely live many days more. The thought was kind of novel, and sort of uncomfortable. What was he supposed to do now?..  
Another idea that was slowly starting to circulate in his head, was that Luffy almost _died_ , and all because of Ace. The thought was so foreign Ace’s brain refused to contemplate it.  
Intellectually, he knew that invading Impel Down was almost a certain death. Invading Marineford was almost a certain death twice over. Fighting Magellan and getting drenched in his poison was a full-on, 110%-guaranteed death.  
But.  
After several hormone injections, a couple fights with the Marine admirals, a rendezvous with Old Man, and a fucking fall from the fucking sky, Luffy was alive.  
_He should have been dead. He was not allowed to die, never ever, not in a hundred years. It was unmentionable, unthinkable,_ impossible _that he could have ended up dead. He nearly died several times over, right in front of Ace. Ace, who was chained, kneeling, and utterly helpless to do_ anything at all.  
Even as Luffy was fighting for his life, stabbed and beaten up and exhausted to no end, Ace could only hold his hand and think about nothing at all. The IV was dripping, the machines were beeping, and his whole being went into those beeps, stretching out in the quiet of the medical bay. Waiting — just waiting to hear a word, a sigh, anything at all that could mean Luffy was pulling through.  
And now his troublesome little brother, his savior, his eternal headache, was finally sitting on his bed and destroying the fifth serving supplied by the Pirate Empress. His face glistening with fat and sauce, his loud chewing and occasional belches — slowly Ace was coming to understand that all of this could have been over and gone, forever. Because of him.  
The realization crept into his heart, filled his head with noise, and chilled his very bones.  
“Hey, Portgas-ya, you okay?” the tattooed guy inquired.  
Ace was not okay. Nothing was, or would ever be, okay.  
“Yeah,” he said.  
Luffy was alive. He was _alive,_ and would remain that way for a very long time. Ace would see to that, no matter the cost.

The tattooed-doctor-guy left the island about as soon as Luffy was able to get up and walk. Ace didn’t blame him: the lurking, constantly blushing and swooning, growling-at-everyone-who-was-not-Luffy Empress was kind of creepy, and if Luffy wasn’t dying anymore it meant he wasn’t going to die any time soon. They were hardy like that, Ace and his little brother.  
Fortunately, Jinbe decided to stay for a while. He, too, had a long way to go before he was fully healed. And for all that Ace loved his little brother more than anything in the world, it was for this exact reason that he appreciated Jinbe’s calm, reasonable, _sane_ company. It had been far too long since Ace had spent more than several hours having the dubious pleasure of witnessing Luffy’s remarkable, incorrigible, idiotic recklessness.  
A week has passed since he woke up, barely able to move, and Luffy was already itching to go on an adventure in the Amazon Lily woods.  
“No,” Ace flatly said.  
“But Aaaaccceeeeeee,” Luffy whined. It was fucking cute, alright. But Ace was a man. He was strong and resolute. He wouldn’t be so easily overcome by Luffy’s cuteness.  
“You’re still not out of your bandages. Several days ago, you just about died. No adventures.”  
“Well, I’m not dying now,” Luffy reasoned. “So yes adventures! Have I told you about these weird-ass mushrooms that grow in the local woods?”  
Apparently in Amazon Lily, there were mushrooms that, after consuming one, grew on your body in vast quantities and then killed you. Of course Luffy found out about it the experimental way. Ace didn’t know about mushrooms, but he seriously feared his own palm might grow fused with his face.  
“No weird mushrooms,” he said in what he felt was a very calm and reasonable tone. “No giant boar hunting. _No adventures_ of any sort whatsoever until you are healthy and well. Got it, Luffy?”  
“Uh-huh. Ace sure is loud,” Luffy complained.  
Ace raised an eyebrow, and noticed Jinbe and some Kuja women that seemed to always stalk Luffy, looking at him with very large, very round eyes.  
Ace sighed, bowed, and apologized. If anything, the women’s eyes got rounder.  
“Let’s take a walk, Luffy,” he said. “I feel like we gotta talk.”

“If it weren’t for the Okama-weirdo-san, at least one of us would have been dead,” Ace said.  
Judging from the look on Luffy’s face, he sounded slightly hysterical.  
He _felt_ slightly hysterical. It’s been over a week, and he was still having nightmares. Something told him that even a year from now, he still wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully.  
Pops, dead, stabbed and burned, with half of his head gone. His brothers who came all the way from the New World to save him, lying on the ground of Marineford, unmoving. Some of them bleeding, some… not anymore.  
Oars, with his mountainous struggle and his immense agony. Jozu, all burnt from Aokiji’s ice. Marco, the Phoenix who would always rise from the ashes, now barely moving from exhaustion and grief.  
Jinbe, taking the magma fist for Ace when they were running for the ships. The gaping wound in his body where Akainu’s fist melted through to reach Ace.  
All the people he never knew, that still came and fought for his life. The Impel Down prisoners. The okamas. (Ace was still unsure how he felt about that, because _what._ ) Even fucking Crocodile and that weird woman who kept stalking Luffy and trying to bribe him into marriage with food. They all put their lives on the line, for _him_ and his baby brother. Some of them (so many, _so many_ ) lost them.  
And.  
_Luffy,_ on his knees, so pale and unable to move. Unable to dodge. Wide-eyed at his own weakness, the red light of the magma fist reflecting in his pupils — just like the little fire they used to sit around, the three of them, when they were children.  
If it wasn’t for Okama-weirdo, he would’ve been hit. Or Ace would, and then Luffy would have to watch his brother die. The very same lousy big brother Luffy had done the impossible to save.  
The first option filled Ace with paralyzing dread. The second, with bitter, burning shame.  
He promised Luffy, didn’t he? He swore he wouldn’t die, and he came this close to breaking his promise.  
It took a veritable miracle to save them both. But then again, didn’t people call the Okama-weirdo “Miracle Worker”?  
The problem with miracles, however, was that they happened exactly once in a lifetime. After that, you were supposed to make do on your own.  
“The Red Dog,” Ace said, holding on to his composure with everything he had, “The Red Dog nearly killed us. We’re not that bad on the battlefield, but neither of us could fight him. I doubt anything we could have done would be enough to so much as scratch his lying ass.”  
“He’s an admiral,” Luffy shrugged. “Admirals are strong. I knew I was no match for even one of them. Luckily, I had my friends helping me!” he laughed, looking very pleased with himself.  
_“I knew I was no match for even one of them.”  
Why come then, Luffy? Why come at all?_  
Ace shivered. The familiar dread raised its head inside him, and crawled deep under his skin, and slithered all over his body, up, up to his heart. That cold dread made itself a cozy nest in the cage of his ribs, and settled down, sated and self-satisfied.  
“Neither am I,” Ace ground out through clenched teeth. “I used to think I was oh so tough, and I didn’t even know my power had any limits. I was so fucking sure no one would ever be able to hit me, what with me being a Logia and all. What a damn loser,” he slammed his fist into the trunk of a tall tree they were passing by, and broke it in two.  
“Then you’ll learn and get stronger,” Luffy said matter-of-factly. “And so will I. It’s gonna be so neat to be able to take on an admiral alone. I bet I’ll be stronger than you in no time!”  
“You’re already stronger than me,” Ace said, the words a cold, heavy weight on his tongue.  
Luffy laughed.  
“As if. I bet you can still beat me. Not for long, though!”  
His smile was a white, blinding monument of absolute conviction.  
_False_ conviction.  
Ace trembled.  
“You saved me,” he managed through his sudden, overwhelming terror. “And I couldn’t save you. Couldn’t even get out of my chains, when you…” An invisible hand squeezed his throat, cold and merciless. Luffy talked about his stint in Impel Down like it was a fun adventure, but what little he said, what _Okama-weirdo_ said, was enough to make his blood freeze in his veins and his heart seize in terror.  
Luffy stared at him, worried. _He was making Luffy worry again._ Hit with a profound shame, Ace took a deep breath and said:  
“ _However._ If it wasn’t for your dumb, miraculous luck, you would be dead a thousand times over now, Luffy. Do you understand that?”  
“But I’m not dead,” Luffy said.  
For him, it was that simple.  
Ace couldn’t breathe.  
“One day,” he said with a leaden voice, “one damn day you _will_ run out of luck. And then you will be _dead._ Because you are not ready! You are not nearly ready to fight people like Magellan or the Red Dog on your own, and if your strength is any indication, neither is your crew! If you set your foot in the New World now, you’re dead meat!”  
Luffy didn’t answer. In fact, he looked slightly blue. Ace realized he was shaking him, violently, and let go. He took a step back.  
In his memory, Kuma softly said,  
_“Ursus Shock.”_  
Oars seized and screamed like Ace never heard him scream before.  
Kuma did that to him. Kuma, a small fly, a flea next to Oars’ vast size and strength. Kuma, who had already encountered Luffy twice, on Moria’s ship and at Sabaody. Who, for fuck knows what reason, hadn’t intended to hurt Luffy back then.  
But if he _did…_  
Now Ace was the one being shaken. Through the buzzing in his ears, he distantly heard Luffy’s panicked voice.  
“I’m good,” he said; to Luffy or to himself, he didn’t know. “I’m fucking good. I’ve got a sweet ass bounty of 550 millions on my head. I beat tons of people. I nearly beat Jinbe, and Jinbe’s _tough._ But I still couldn’t protect you. Couldn’t even protect my own damn self.” Ace could not breathe, like all the air’s been sucked out of the place. His heart was beating against the cage of his chest like it wanted to slam out of it. “Shit, _I’m still so fucking weak._ ”  
“Hey Ace, you okay? You don’t look so well,” Luffy said, uncertain.  
“And you’re _worse_ ,” Ace burst out. “You are still miles behind me, and you’ve got no sense to boot! Who the fuck sneaks into Impel Down uninvited?! If a loser like me gets stuck in deep shit like that, you fucking forget about him and move on!”  
“Are you an idiot?” Luffy said, looking at him with pity.  
Ace wheezed.  
“ _You’re_ the idiot,” he said. “You make abso-fucking-lutely no fucking sense all the fucking time. You do the stupidest fucking things. You wouldn’t know caution if it bit you on your skinny ass. You trust everyone and their mother. You make friends with prisoners, ex-Warlords, and pervy women. You just charge ahead without thinking, time and time again, even when you could _die._ “  
Ace was crying, he knew it, and he was completely unable to stop it.  
“Ace…” Luffy said.  
Not once through the battle of Marineford had he seen Luffy look as lost and helpless as he did now.  
“You could never protect me without your… friends,” Ace drove home, cruelly, ruthlessly. “Without all the people you’ve met by pure dumb chance. You wouldn’t even be able to protect yourself. Luffy, the way you’re now, you are damn useless.”  
Luffy’s lips trembled.  
“And so am I,” Ace breathed out. “I’m so fucking weak. You should’ve seen me after Blackbeard beat me up; I was barely able to move, and he walked around lively as you please. I’m such a fucking failure Luffy.”  
“You really _are_ an idiot,” Luffy nodded sagely. “So you failed — doesn’t mean you’re a failure. You just gotta train really hard, is all.”  
“Wise little brother,” Ace tried to smile. “Let’s train together, then, shall we?”

* * *

If it wasn’t for Jinbe who had to bodily hold him back, Ace would probably try and fight Teach. And die, of course. Even alone, Teach was stronger, and he had not come alone. But it would have hardly stopped Ace — that’s how he was, a fool to the very end.  
After all, wasn’t Ace his father’s son?  
Although he had grumbled over father’s refusal to take his medicine and follow doctor’s orders enough times to feel slightly duplicitous.  
But when father got something into his head, he wouldn’t listen to anyone — not Ace, not the other commanders, not even Marco. Was it stupid of Ace to cherish this vice he shared with his father?  
Maybe it was, but still, he did cherish it. He even took pride in it, that misplaced bond. Father would laugh at him, he knew. His headstrong, reckless father, the wisest father in the world, the man with the biggest heart.  
The man who would never laugh again, who was lost and gone now — and Ace didn’t even tell him how endlessly he loved him. How grateful he was, for everything. For giving a home to him, and a name Ace was proud to wear on his back. For being patient with his foolish stubbornness, and for covering for his mistakes. For looking beyond the name of Gol D. Roger, and seeing Ace for who he truly was.  
For starting a war for Ace.  
For bringing his other sons to die, for Ace.  
Pops would never have it any other way, Ace knew. If one of yours got in deep shit, you went and dragged them out by their ears, no matter what it cost you. That was another thing they had in common, so Ace was free to mourn without any regrets. And so he mourned, his father and brothers who died having already forgiven Ace for their deaths. And as he mourned, he swore to never fail Pops again the way he had before.  
Because Pops died so that his sons could live, and be happy.  
Right now, that seemed like an enormous undertaking. But Ace had never been one to back down from a challenge.

Every night was hell.  
Luffy, screaming and burning in Akainu’s magma. Luffy, crucified by Aokiji’s ice spades. Luffy, golden light shining around him and through him as Kizaru’s rays pierced his body. Luffy, his torso split open with Mihawk’s black blade, his entrails hanging out, all pearly and glossy. Luffy, dying a thousand deaths each and every night.  
His brothers, falling one by one. Moby Dick, in flames, slowly going down to the bottom of the sea. The once-dry ground, now all muddy with blood, Ace’s feet sinking in the dirt like this very place didn’t want him to get out.  
And then, Pops.  
Night by night, his wounds looked progressively larger. The ruin of his head got more and more gruesome, and the blood would ooze and drip and pour until Pops was red all over, even his white mustache and white teeth stained with crimson.  
Still he smiled in Ace’s dreams, his dead father, the way he would smile in life when he looked at all the people he called his children.  
The pain Ace felt watching that smile was a blade stabbing through his chest, crushing his ribs and pinning his heart like a butterfly. But it didn’t even come close to the pain Ace felt when he woke up.

Slowly, day by day, it all piled up.  
The pain of loss. The weight of guilt. The exhaustion of being worried about Luffy _all the damn time_ , even when Luffy was there with him. _Especially_ when Luffy was there with him, smiling, and laughing, and already trying to fight giant boars in his still-weak state, and thickly smelling of meat and medicine. His unruly hair, his sky-wide eyes, his damn knobby knees — everything about him was so painfully precious that every single time Ace so much as looked at him, the same understanding hit him anew, like Old Man’s fist:  
_If Luffy was gone, Ace would not survive it._  
It all pressed down on him and crushed him — the nightmares, the constant fear, the never-ending feeling that there wasn’t enough air for him to breathe freely. Ace felt sick to the bottom of his soul, and he didn’t know how to help it.  
So Ace did the only thing he could think of: he blamed Luffy for putting himself in danger.  
Every time Ace changed Luffy’s bandages and cleaned his wounds, he got angry. Every time Luffy smiled and thanked him, all carefree like those wounds were nothing, Ace got _furious._ Every time Luffy attempted to start training despite not being fully out of his bandages, Ace would (carefully) kick his butt and sit on him so that Luffy couldn’t go anywhere.  
Luffy would whine and grumble but in the end, he always forgave him, and it left a bitter taste in Ace’s mouth.  
Although he probably didn’t have the right to be angry at Luffy for risking his life — after all, Ace himself, had he been in Luffy’s shoes, would have done the exact same thing.  
But Ace didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to be angry at Luffy, and keep him safe from any danger that might harm him — beasts, Marines, and lewd women included.

At first, Boa Hancock tried to get into his good graces, calling him her “big brother” (although she was older than him by about ten or twenty years, the pervy grandma), and generously promising to make him the best man at her and Luffy’s wedding.  
Ace gnashed his teeth, politely nodded, and persevered. After all, it wouldn’t do them any good to call out the almighty ruler of the island they were staying on, no matter how utterly delusional the woman was.  
Then she saw one of Ace’s educational moments. Luffy was being particularly unruly, trying to sneak away to the woods to find some of the mushrooms that seemed to fascinate him so. So Ace rewarded him with a slap on the back of his head, and a long speech on the merits of exercising due caution when one was still weak and unable to fight properly. He also might have explained, in strong words, how making the big brother worry all the time was rude and entirely unacceptable.  
Hancock flew into a spitting rage the likes of which Ace had never seen in a man or a woman. There were numerous threats, and some rather ridiculous posing, and at one point a long, pearly, perfect leg was flying into his face.  
Ace stood and waited, his knees slightly bent and fists poised to strike. After all, he had long been itching for a good fight.  
The leg didn’t reach him, to his chagrin. Instead, Ace witnessed a rare magic: a great hissing snake of a woman was suddenly turned into a shy, cuddly puppy, all by his brother’s golden palm on her ankle.  
What he saw and heard next, made his eyes bug out more than was necessary or acceptable. Apparently, the woman thought that Luffy’s touch on her leg meant he was now her husband. It was also, it seemed, far from the first time that she crudely propositioned Luffy like that, because Luffy just laughed it off like it was nothing.  
From that moment on, Boa Hancock and Portgas D. Ace were bitter enemies.

Every evening, a tired and full Luffy would drop into Ace’s bed, still smelling of meat and fruit and the day’s sweat, and immediately start softly snoring.  
Every evening, Ace would stand in front of his bed, watch Luffy’s rising chest, his slightly open mouth, the long black eyelashes falling like shadows under his closed eyes, and force himself to lie down.  
He would wrap himself around Luffy so that his whole body could feel the thrum of Luffy’s life, and then, with a monumental effort, he would close his eyes.  
He would order himself to sleep. He would tell himself that Luffy was alive, and here, and no one could take him as long as he was safely tucked away in Ace’s arms, and there was nothing to be afraid of. Nothing. Nothing at all.  
Every night, Ace would wake up with a scream that felt like his chest was being torn open. Every night, he clutched Luffy’s body close and closer, and frantically listened to the breath and the heartbeat, the sleepy murmuring, the grumbling that turned into wheezes when Ace held him too tight.  
Every night, Ace drank in Luffy’s _aliveness,_ and thought he would not, could not let him go. Not now; maybe not ever.

Ace felt absurdly grateful that out of the two of them, Luffy was the one to insist on sleeping together. It helped Ace save his face, and maybe look a little bit less pathetic than he actually was — a grown-ass man who would fly into panic the moment his little brother was out of his sight.  
Ace barely held himself together even when Luffy went to take a leak. Still, through sheer power of will, he managed to hold himself back from accompanying Luffy. For Ace, it was a small source of pride.  
Jinbe was quietly understanding, and Ace would never be not grateful for that. The pervy, Luffy-monopolizing Pirate Empress, however, was another matter entirely.

“Would you like another bed Luffy?” her simpering was positively revolting. “Is the one I prepared for you uncomfortable? Or, or, are you cold? I’ll have my women bring some more blankets.”  
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, Hancock!” Luffy grinned, sending the woman into a swoon.  
“Why do you keep sleeping with that rude brother of yours, then? Do you want company? If you do, I could…” Thankfully, Hancock blushed and swooned (again) before she could finish the damn sentence. Seriously, how could Luffy stand that annoyingly beautiful woman who was constantly trying to usurp him?  
“The last time he left me, he nearly died,” Luffy said, simple and calm. “I’m not letting him do that again.”  
Ace tried to will away the burning in his eyes. Every morning, he would wake up and find Luffy clutching him back just as hard as Ace clutched him. Luffy seemed like he was back to his normal lively self… Could it be that he _wasn’t?_ Could it be that he was just as afraid as Ace?  
What did _he_ dream of, to hold Ace that hard in his sleep?

Sometimes, Ace dreamed that he was still in prison, chained deep under the sea, barely able to move his limbs, and thinking endless prison thoughts.  
A long stray hair tickled the bridge of his nose, a simple, slight, inescapable torment Ace could not relieve himself of, chained as he was. The stale smell of his own unwashed body got into his nostrils, so potent that there was no getting used to it. His legs and wrists had been numb for what seemed like an eternity, and with his fire blocked by the seastone, the prison cold got deep into Ace’s body, so deep his bones had long forgotten how warmth felt.  
Ace sat, unmoving, and thought. There was nothing else left for him, after all.  
He thought about how he _failed,_ first in seeing Teach for what he was, and then in bringing him to justice. Worse than that, he failed _Pops,_ twice: first by disobeying him, and then by getting his sorry ass captured.  
He knew Pops wouldn’t let one of his own die a shameful death on the scaffold. It was a bitter, biting knowledge that ate at him and chilled him worse than his cell’s stone floor.  
But at least, Ace thought, his precious little brother was free to live out his life on the vast blue sea, far from the Impel Down cells and the seastone bars.  
It was a thought that brought comfort and hope. A nice thought, a warm thought, and Ace gratefully leaned into it.  
Until he was denied even that.  
The moment the incongruously beautiful Shichibukai Empress came down to the 6th Level of Impel Down to tell him the worst news in his life, Ace found out he never knew true fear at all.  
He hadn’t really seen the five upper levels of Impel Down, but he’s heard stories. Enough to understand that Luffy’s life was now lost forever. All for him, for Ace, the one who was supposed to protect Luffy.  
Now Luffy would die, too. All because of him.  
So Ace told himself, time and time again, that the woman lied, knowing all the while who was the real liar between the two of them.

* * *

In about two week’s time of Ace trying to knock some sense into his little brother’s dumb, overly enthusiastic head, an old man came from the sea. Soaking wet and nonchalant as you please, he greeted Luffy, and lightheartedly complained about getting infirm in his old age.  
Luffy knew him; Ace didn’t. Neither did he want to, considering that the man had once been his useless father’s right arm.  
And what a man he must have been, if he was able to joke around like that after swimming across the Calm Belt now, more than twenty years after Roger’s great journey.  
Luffy and the Boa women welcomed him like an old friend, but Ace was still suspicious — until this Rayleigh spoke the same thing Ace thought every night, and offered a plan.

The plan was ambitious, dangerous, and brilliant. And, of course, just audacious enough to make Ace and Luffy look at each other with identical wide grins.  
Jinbe just hmm-ed, and nodded. Thankfully, he was healing fine, just like Luffy. There were few friends in the world like Jinbe. During their time in prison, Ace grew to like and respect him even more than he did before, and he could tell Luffy felt the same.  
He was glad Jinbe was with them on this gamble. After all, Jinbe loved Pops as much as Ace did. It was only right that he, too, could bid him farewell this one last time.

Ace stood in front of the small bell that was older than many kingdoms, his brother by his side and looking unusually solemn. They raised their hands, and in one joint move, they pulled the rope, together.  
One… two… three… four… and all the way to sixteen.  
An age has ended, and another was sailing in, with the young and reckless at the helm.  
Listening to the metallic sound, Ace closed his eyes and prayed, as well as he knew how. His heart beat in time with the tolls of the bell, and his eyes were wet.  
_Father,_ he thought, throwing his whole soul into that prayer, _rest well now. Your sons will not shame you._  
The bell rang one last time, the note lingering in the air for a long while. Ace listened to the air vibrate with the echoes of the bell’s song, and felt absurdly hopeful.

The island of Rusukaina was positively charming. It was just fun and wild enough to make for an exciting two years — and, most importantly, it had zero Pirate Empresses skulking around, looking to prey on his innocent little brother. Yeah, Ace liked that. He liked that a lot.  
He also found that he liked this Rayleigh fellow. What he didn’t appreciate in the least, though, was how Luffy kept pestering Rayleigh for stories of his useless father. And what he appreciated even less was how the person that lived in Rayleigh’s stories actually seemed like a decent guy. A _fun_ guy, the kind Ace wouldn’t mind being friends with.  
It was damn hard, to listen to those stories and unwillingly sympathize with the man he had hated the most ever since he was born. But it was absolutely impossible to walk away and leave Luffy to listen to those stories alone, to let him out of his sight. So Ace clenched his teeth and listened, keeping a hand on Luffy’s knobby knee all the while to make sure his little brother was still there.  
Luffy’s knees would tremble when he laughed at Roger’s misadventures, and Ace would feel warm, quiet, overwhelming happiness fill him up to the bursting. At moments like these, he found it difficult to hate Roger. After all, without him, there would be no Ace to sit by Luffy’s side, hold his knee, and roar with laughter at something particularly stupid Roger had done.  
One day after story time, Luffy asked Rayleigh absolutely out of nowhere:  
“Rayleigh, do you think people will hate me like they hate Roger when I die?”  
Ace choked. Rayleigh laughed.  
“Maybe,” he said, his glasses twinkling merrily. “They do tend to hate people who are different. People they do not understand. Roger was like that — even I sometimes barely understood him. And he was a lot like you.”  
His words hit Ace like a punch in the gut. Luffy grinned.  
“I wish I knew him,” he said. “He sounds like someone Nami would beat up all the time. I bet we’d get along!”  
“He was _not_ anything like Luffy,” Ace ground out. “He was _evil._ He killed, maimed, and destroyed. _Everybody_ hated him. Everybody still does. Don’t talk about him like he’s a nice guy!”  
Rayleigh nostalgically smiled.  
“It’s funny how propaganda works,” he said. “You take a piece of gold, paint it black, and everyone thinks it’s iron. The Roger I knew, he lived for fights and adventures, and cared nothing for pillaging or whatever it is people say he did. The only treasure he had ever wanted was freedom, and I daresay he found it. After all, I’ve never known anyone else who had died so free.”  
“He died _in chains_ ,” Ace snarled. “ _On his knees._ He died because he couldn’t even fight off two small fries with blades!”  
Rayleigh regarded him for a moment or two. His glasses gleamed in the firelight, hiding his eyes from Ace’s gaze.  
“It is true,” he said. “There is also another thing that is less well known, but no less true. He let the Marines catch him.”  
“What?..” Ace asked, his heart stopping for a bit. _Even his own father didn’t want him so much, he chose to get caught and executed before Ace was so much as born._ It was a ridiculous thought, a stupid thought, but it _hurt._ “Why? If he wanted to die so badly, didn’t he have the guts to just end his own life?”  
His hand on Luffy’s knee squeezed so hard that Luffy let out a small whimper.  
Rayleigh was silent.  
“I will tell you, Roger’s son,” he finally said. “So open your ears and heart, and listen well. This man I’m telling you about, this was your father. You have now inherited his legacy,” he glanced at Luffy for some reason. “It is a huge weight to carry, and your burdens are heavy enough as they are. So listen well now, and maybe they will get lighter.”

After Rayleigh’s story, Ace walked around in a daze for about three days. He even lost in a fight with Luffy — once. Luffy sent him flying with a Gear Third punch, ran up to the prostrate Ace, plopped down across Ace’s belly, and pouted.  
The weight of Luffy’s butt on his stomach was enough to make Ace somewhat snap out of it. He looked up, and scowled.  
“So you’re the winner this time,” he said. “Congrats, enjoy it while it lasts. Which it _won’t._ “  
“Beh, that doesn’t count,” Luffy complained. “Ace is being weird these days. If you were the way you usually are, I couldn’t have beaten you. For now,” he added.  
Ace forcefully squeezed Luffy’s cheeks and laughed at his ridiculous face.  
“Don’t be so cheeky,” he scolded. “You’re still miles behind me, brat.”  
He let go of Luffy’s face, and smashed Luffy’s head into Ace’s shoulder. Luffy noisily breathed and squirmed, trying to get away, but Ace held him with an iron grip, and felt something tightly wound in his chest loosen up.  
“I’m glad you’re no longer angry at your dad,” Luffy mumbled into his armpit. “I bet he would be an awesome dad, had he lived.”  
“He’d be the worst,” Ace laughed, glad Luffy was unable to see his tears. “Just like Old Man, but maybe without the damn Fist of Love. It’s no wonder they were friends, or something.”  
Luffy laughed. It tickled — the giggles, and Luffy’s long eyelashes on his skin. Was that why Ace was suddenly laughing, too, feeling the lightest he had ever felt in his life?

* * *

It took a long time, but now, some of Ace’s nights were officially nightmare-free.  
Not all of them, though. He still saw visions of Luffy being murdered in various infinitely gruesome ways. Luffy complained it made Ace much too grumpy. Damn gum bastard, who bounced back in less than a month and was now having the time of his life.  
A year and a half after Marineford, Ace was still not sure he could ever let Luffy sail out alone. He wasn’t even quite sure he wanted to.  
His brothers were waiting for him, missing him, Ace knew. What were they doing now, homeless and fatherless?..  
Another thing Ace knew, was that he owed a debt to the people who saved him. A huge debt, an obligation he would have to fulfill for as long as he breathed.  
An obligation to go out there again, to be happy and free. To live his best life with no regrets.  
They died for it, his father and brothers. Ace swore to himself their sacrifice would not be futile.  
But when he thought of the future — the seas he might sail, the paths he might take — his future always looked back at him with sky-wide eyes and a blinding smile that drew Ace like a beacon.  
He would always miss the Whitebeard crew, he knew. But with his father gone, so was Ace’s purpose of staying with them.  
Now that he has lost everything and gained back far more than he deserved, Ace finally knew what his heart was truly set on — like a Log Pose that found its aim.

This week, it was summer. Like every damn thing on this island, it was extreme — hot and stuffy and sweaty. Even this late in the evening, it was still scorching. Luffy was dripping wet in his dirty, tattered vest, trying to cook tonight’s meat without burning it. Ace could already tell he was failing.  
“Say, how are you feeling about getting one more crewmate?” he asked, picking his teeth. He probably should have cooked, but he was feeling too lazy tonight. After all, even burnt meat was still meat.  
Luffy blinked, absently wiping his hands on his pants. His palms were all sooty and dripping with meat juices, messing up the already-dirty shorts.  
Then he blinked some more, and grinned.  
In all his life, Ace had never seen him smile that wide. The sheer, naked happiness in his face made Ace feel all floaty, like a summer cloud.  
“Hey Luffy…” he said, suddenly nervous. “Your stupid stunt at Impel Down and Marineford and all… Do you think it was all worth it?” he asked, knowing the answer but needing it anyway.  
_Was_ I _worth it?_  
Luffy’s smile instantly disappeared, and he growled in that ridiculous way of his that always made him sound like a very small, very angry kitten.  
“Can I take it as a yes?” Ace shouted, happily running away from his incensed little brother.  
“Damn right you can!!” Luffy screamed, raining a particularly potent rubber Gatling on Ace’s butt.  
Ace relished every painful punch, because it meant that Luffy was getting better. That Luffy was now _strong,_ and able to take care not just of himself but also of his incompetent big brother.  
It meant that Ace was still around to feel the pain of the hits and the exertion of running, to hear Luffy’s silly sound effects he liked to produce for his Gatling, to smell the little fire their supper was sizzling over, to see the thick woods in front of him, the star-studded sky above him, and his brother’s offended face behind him.  
Ace suddenly stopped. Luffy immediately ran into him, and sent them both flying.  
He felt like a very hot, sticky octopus on top of Ace, arms and legs seeking out Ace’s body and twining around it like they had a mind of their own. Ace laid on his back, spread-eagle, and laughed.  
With his shoulder, he felt Luffy’s pout widen into a smile of his own, and soon his laughter was joined by another.  
A life was spreading out in front of him, as vast and endless as the sky Ace was looking at. It would be just as unpredictable, he knew, and it could be just as beautiful. Especially with the sun currently lying on his chest and giggling into his ear.  
Ace hugged Luffy’s bare, narrow waist under his vest, and thought:  
_Father… brothers… do you think it’s alright for me to stay with him? Would you be very angry at me for selfishly choosing him over you?_  
The stars in the sky were indifferent, and so piercingly bright, and offered no answer at all. Until there were no more stars, all swallowed up by black hair and black eyes and white grin and golden skin.  
“Ace,” Luffy said. “I think the meat’s done! Let’s eat!”  
And maybe, Ace mused, it was as good an answer as any.

* * *

Two years passed by in a flurry of fighting and training and bleeding and eating and laughing.  
They learned some new things from Rayleigh, and some on their own. They got stronger and better, more resourceful and hardy. They even made some new friends, and Ace was just a little bit sorry to bid them goodbye.  
They still weren’t ready, not entirely. But they were as ready as they’d ever be.  
And now, it was time to leave.  
Today, as promised, the Kuja ship was coming to take them away, to Luffy’s crew. Luffy didn’t speak much about them, but when he did, Ace could see the longing in his eyes.  
Soon enough, Luffy would have back all the people he loved most. In just a few days, they would sail out on the Straw Hats’ new ship, and brave the voyage to the Fishman Island, where Jinbe was probably already waiting for them, now a no less loyal friend to Luffy than to Ace.  
Ace didn’t have his own nakama anymore, and he probably wouldn’t see his sworn brothers from the Whitebeard Pirates crew for quite some time. But he could be quietly happy for Luffy, and he was.  
Driven by a strange impulse, Ace hugged Luffy from behind. His palm found the small white star of a scar, now barely even visible on the tanned skin.  
Luffy leaned back into his chest, and put his own palm on top of Ace’s.  
“Are you sure you don’t wanna go find your nakama?” he asked.  
“We’ll meet them,” Ace said. “Eventually. They’ll always be my nakama, after all. But I’ve also got this little brother, the most troublesome of them all,” he forcefully ruffled Luffy’s hair, disregarding the offended screams and the batting hands, “who keeps getting into sticky situations,” he moved on to tickling Luffy’s sides under his well-worn red vest, “like, say, invading impregnable prisons, orchestrating grand escapes, falling from the sky, challenging the Marine admirals, beating up Old Man, mingling with okamas, flirting with Pirate Empresses…”  
Luffy was wheezing, flushed and breathless from all the laughing. Ace felt a tight, hot fist close around his heart.  
“How could I ever leave such a vexing little brother alone?” he said, perhaps a bit (a lot) more tenderly than he intended.  
Ace was a pirate. He went wherever he wanted, and did whatever he liked.  
And right now, when he didn’t have anything to prove anymore, there was but one route he wanted to take.  
 _Next stop, everywhere,_ he thought.  
After all, wherever they sailed or landed, the Straw Hat crew was sure to make it fun. 

**Author's Note:**

> For micifuskuroneko, because without your encouragement my little file with disjointed notes would never grow into an actual fic. I hope you don't mind that it’s an "Ace lives" thing.
> 
> And for moonryak — thank you for loving him. As long as there’s fic in this world, Portgas D. Ace will never truly die. ༼ಢ_ಢ༽


End file.
